Ten O'Clock Chess
by WallofIllusion
Summary: Mokuba and Seto play chess together. Set some time after Battle City. No longer a songfic.


Yeah, uh, songfics aren't allowed now. So I took the Duvet lyrics out. If you're really desperate to see them then go to my devART acount. But they're not crucial.

Oh yeah, and the hook actually came from an essay I was writing for school o.O... Yeah, I decided it didn't fit with the essay but I liked it so I pasted it into a random MS Word document and... yeah. Then I decided it would fit with this idea, and voila! But now I'm not sure it does, so if it confuses you please tell me!

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**Ten O' Clock Chess  
**

Naïvely, children assume that the ones they love are perfect. They look at their loved ones as heroes, never failing, never hurting.

Mokuba Kaiba had long since abandoned this delusion; he knew of his big brother's imperfections. He prided himself on being one of the few that did. But like the child he no longer was, he still held onto some of those vague ideas. In some part of his mind, he knew there were things that should never have changed.

"Nii-sama…?"

Seto looked up from his computer as he heard his little brother's tentative voice.

"Nii-sama, will you play chess with me?" Mokuba asked. He looked nervous and slightly abashed, as if he were asking something intrusive.

Seto stared at him, considering. Then he turned back to his computer. "I don't have time right now. Maybe this afternoon."

"But right now is…" Mokuba sighed. "Right now is the time we always used to play together. R… remember? We always played together at ten o'clock… back at the orphanage…"

Seto hesitated. "Yes, I remember," he admitted.

"So…" Mokuba said, "so can't we… can't we do that again? Like we used to?"

With a sigh, Seto closed the file he'd been working on. "Sure," he said reluctantly. "Let's play."

Mokuba grinned. "Arigatou!" he cried. The two walked together to the game room of the California mansion they were staying in. To Seto's surprise, the game was already set up. He glanced suspiciously at Mokuba.

The black-haired boy shrugged and explained, "I was going to play by myself, but then I wondered if you would like to join me…"

Seto nodded silently and sat down at the white side. That was how they always played; Seto always made the first move, always explained his strategy to Mokuba.

And, he remembered suddenly, he had played white against Gozaburo, too.

Mokuba sat down at the black side and waited for Seto to begin. He was excited—it had been a long time since he'd played chess against Nii-sama—but he didn't let it show. "Onegaishimasu," he said quietly.

"Onegaishimasu," Seto answered, already focused on the board. He moved a ceramic pawn forward with a firm, deliberate motion. One would never be able to find uncertainty in Seto's moves; he didn't let any show, if indeed he ever felt any.

He lifted his eyes from the board momentarily to glance at Mokuba. "Would you still like me to explain my moves to you?" he asked with a half-smile.

Mokuba shook his head mutely and brought out a knight.

Seto raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A knight?" he commented. "That's bold… unusually bold for you."

Mokuba gave a shrug. "I've been working on my game recently. Mostly replaying our old games, the ones I remember."

"I see."

Several turns later, Seto said, "Your practice is paying off. Your playing style has matured."

"It should," Mokuba answered with a small smile of gratitude. "I play every day."

Seto glanced at his brother's face. "Every day at ten?" he guessed, feeling a strange twinge of sadness.

Mokuba nodded, not meeting his brother's eyes. Then, after a pause, he asked, "What about you, Nii-sama?"

"What about me?" Seto repeated, pretending he didn't know what Mokuba was asking.

"Do you ever play anymore?" the boy clarified.

Seto moved his piece. "I don't have the time," he answered uncomfortably, shying away from the question that was somehow an accusation.

Mokuba blinked as his piece was taken. Then, for some reason, he smiled slightly. Alarmed, Seto ran his eyes over the board—was there some trap he'd missed?

"No, there's nothing," Mokuba said, answering his brother's thoughts.

"So why did you smile?"

"I was just remembering how you always won." Mokuba's hand moved over the board, wavering back and forth as he considered which piece to use. "And you would give me advice—"

"Advice like 'don't let your opponent see that you're uncertain'?" Seto asked with a smirk.

Mokuba snapped his hand back and giggled slightly. "Yeah. And I would try to follow it, but I always lost anyway. I could never even get you into check."

"Don't feel bad," Seto said casually. "I've never lost a game of chess."

Mokuba slid his rook over several spaces, a defensive move. Then he smiled again. "I missed playing you, Nii-sama."

This time the question was implied: _Did you miss playing me, too?_ Once again, Seto didn't want to answer. So he remained silent, moved his bishop, waited.

Mokuba sighed and took his turn.

A few more turns passed. Seto moved his queen across the board smoothly, deliberate as always.

Mokuba looked over the board and let his hand hover over his rook; then he moved it into the white queen's square. "…Check."

Seto blinked in shock. He hadn't seen that coming…

Mokuba took the queen from the board and held it contemplatively; the ceramic was still slightly warm from Seto's hand.

"You really have improved," Seto told him, sensing that it was the wrong thing to say but saying it anyway. "Your game has evolved wonderfully."

Mokuba hesitated, staring at the captured queen. Then he looked up. "Your game hasn't improved at all, Nii-sama," he said quietly, meeting his brother's eyes. "It's still the same from when we played each other in the orphanage."

Seto tensed. He looked away and tried to tell himself that what he felt was anger, not shame. Failing that, he challenged, "How do you know I'm not waiting to surprise you? You should know by now that I like surprise tactics."

"You're not," Mokuba answered simply. "I can tell. I've studied our old games. I know by now what it looks like when you're about to surprise me."

Caught in his lie, Seto responded by moving his king out of the path of Mokuba's rook.

Mokuba didn't move right away. Instead he met Seto's eyes. "We used to love this game," he said wistfully. "Remember? It was our favorite thing to do together. Even though I lost, I loved it."

Seto nodded and waited for Mokuba's move.

Grasping a knight and moving it in its crooked path, Mokuba asked, "Do you still love it, Nii-sama?"

Seto shrugged, ill at ease. "I…" He grasped a piece and moved it without hesitation, as always. Only his speech was uncertain. "I… resent this game now. Because of _him_. I thought I still liked it, but… it's hard for me to play it without thinking about him."

Mokuba's shoulders drooped and he said bitterly, "I don't want you to think about him. I want you to think about _us_. This is _our_ game, not his…"

Seto waited, watching the board, not meeting Mokuba's eyes.

Mokuba sighed and bit his lip. He moved his piece.

The next turns were carried out in silence. Both brothers played well. But while Seto was surprised at the boldness and cleverness of his little brother's moves, Mokuba became increasingly aware that he could predict Seto's.

Seto noticed the formation a moment too late, a moment after he'd placed his piece in exactly the wrong place. He stared at the board in disbelief.

Mokuba moved his knight forward, towards Seto's king. He, too, stared at the board for a long time. Then, his voice almost inaudible, he whispered, "Checkmate."

Seto scanned the board again. It couldn't possibly be checkmate… he'd never lost a game…

Mokuba hunched over in his seat, his face hidden. Then, with a sudden, furious motion, he swept his arm across the board, knocking the pieces to the floor. Several shattered with tiny crashes.

He stood, and his chair fell backwards. "You're supposed to win!" he cried angrily at Seto. "Y-you're Nii-sama! You're supposed to be perfect at this game!"

Now in tears, he ran from the room. Seto was left sitting alone, staring at the empty squares of the chess board and feeling that he'd failed at something very, very important.


End file.
